Not So Ever After
by the next best thing
Summary: What happens if Henry did not leave his wedding? What if one year after his marriage to Gabriella, he sees Danielle again? Not the perfect cinderella story eh? RnR
1. The Wrong Happy Ending

The wrong happy ending

"Au nom du père, et du fils, et de l'esprit saint."

As the priest made the sign of the cross I followed his lead as I always did and uttered the sacred word 'Amen'. I hoped it would be loud enough to drone her constant cry but nothing would hush the shaking girl beside me.

She does not want this, I don't want this but it must be done there is no other way.

Or is there?

A sudden remembrance of the tear streaked Nicole as she runs from the masquerade ball not long after I discover whom she really is.

For she was never Countess Nicole De Loncre but a servant. She had lied to me. I wonder was she ever going to confess. Did she arrive at the ball to tell me the truth or still yet another lie?

I will never forget how she looked when up on those stairs. A marriage to Marguerite seemed preposterous when compared to the woman I once loved so dearly.

It pains me to remember how I scolded her so harshly when she tried to explain. If only I had not reacted the way I did then she would be beside me instead of Gabriella.

Perhaps there is a way we can be together. There is still time, if I leave before the vows than I can beg for her forgiveness.

My decision is made, I will leave this place.

As I rise to my feet I glance upon my parents. My mother is sympathising the weeping Spanish princess but my father has a stern look upon his face. He was ashamed of the son who was in love with a commoner.

An echo of the constant saying shook me from my plan – 'You were born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations.'

At that moment I realised that if I were to leave then I would disgrace the King.

I had no choice.

I arrived as a man and left as a future king and a husband. Were these the sacrifices that my father used to comment on endlessly? Was Nicole my sacrifice? If she was, none the more would be as difficult to let go.

Dearest Nicole, wherever you are, my love for you is eternal. You will not be forgotten.

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Perhaps I deserve this. I am certain I deserve this. I deceived him and he didn't even hear the truth from me. I am ashamed with myself.

When leaving the masquerade ball, I tripped and my mother's precious glass shoe slipped off my foot. As I scrambled up to retrieve the item, I glanced up to see Leonardo rushing towards me with a shocked expression. I left the shoe and ran away from him… from everything. In my absent state of mind, I failed to remember to come back for it. By the time I did it was no longer there.

I hurried to get back to the manner for I desperately needed the warm embrace of Paulette and Louise. Approaching the door, sorrow prevented me from entering. I collapsed onto the doorstep, soaked by the downfall of rain.

I was to marry Henry. If only I had told him the truth about me from the very beginning then none of this would have happened. Hearts would not be broken.

I am angry with myself for doing this to him. He deserves a better bride. However it should not have happened the way it did. The Baroness was cruel to publicly display my faults. How could she do this in hope to rekindle a non-existent passion between Henry and Marguerite? They aren't ought to have Henry.

Henry? I must withdraw from referring to him with that name. He is no longer Henry but the Prince of France. I shall refrain from going near him for as long as I shall live.

Tomorrow I will discontinue forming conversations with both Rodmilla and Marguerite. Soon they will move into the palace and I can stay here with Gustave, Maurice, Louise and Paulette.

With this dream, I stood up and quietly entered my home.

The next day I busied myself with chores in hope to avoid the questionings of my friends or the vindictive comments of my stepmother.

This did not last long. While working hard to release a rock from the ground using a metal rod, Rodmilla caught the chance to increase my annoyance with one of her snide remarks.

"I have it on good authority that before your rather embarrassing debut, the prince was about to choose Marguerite to be his bride."

I dropped my rod and picked up my basket full of herbs and tried to get away from her as quickly as possible before saying something else. I was too late.

"Men are so fickle aren't they? One minute they are spouting sonnets, and the next you are back to being the hired help. Although I have never seen you quite this dedicated to your chores." Rodmilla said, enjoying every moment of it.

"What makes you think I do any of this for you?" I responded whilst trudging up the path.

She moved to block the way and crowed, "My my my, aren't we feisty this evening."

My annoyance was reaching its breaking point. I had to get away. "Let me pass." I demanded.

"You've brought this on yourself you know." She sneered, ignoring my comment.

"I've got work to do."

"Let the others handle it." An image popped into my head of Paulette and Louise doing my share of the housework as well as their own. I sighed and pushed passed through the trees beside her.

Walking away I could not fight the urge to yell back at her, "Don't you understand? You've won! Go move into your palace and leave us be."

"You are not my problem anymore." She stated while following me up the hill to the house.

I turned to face her with a shocked face. "Is that what I am? Your problem? I have done everything you have ever asked me to do and still you deny me the only thing I've ever wanted."

"And what was that?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

"What do you think?" astounded to believe that she could not guess, "You are the only mother I have ever known. Was there a time, even in its smallest of measurements, that you loved me at all?"

"How could anyone love a pebble in their shoe?" she responded.

Tears welled in my eyes but I fought hard not to allow them to spill on my cheeks. Thankfully Paulette caused a distraction by calling out from up above, "Danielle! My lady. Oh come and see, its back. All of it!"

I ran up the hill, not so much as to see what Paulette was talking about but just to escape from Rodmilla's glare.

I dropped the basket of herbs down beside the fence and looked up to see Monsieur Le Peau and a dozen of his servants unloading three or more carriages full of objects. It took me a second to realise that they belonged to my father.

"Monsieur Le Peau, right on time." The Baroness exclaimed as she reached the top of the path.

"It's all here Baroness. Down to the very last candlestick." He smirked.

All of a sudden it hit me. "Father's books, his paintings. You sold them to him?"

"Yes and now they're back. We couldn't very well look like paupers when the King arrives." She said.

As always, I had to calm my rage and politely say, "Thankyou monsieur. This means the world to us."

"I'm a business man, Danielle. Not a therianthropist." He stated as he rolled his eyes.

"I don't understand." I said flatly.

"I couldn't have you distracting the prince, now could I?"

"The Baroness and I have come to… an arrangement." He tried to explain.

"You for all this. Although I do think I'm getting the better end of the deal." Rodmilla smiled while rubbing her hands together in satisfaction.

I stared bewildered at her. Not understanding a word that she said. What deal? I knew as soon as two of Monsieur Le Peau's servants came around and grabbed me by the arms. I screamed as they dragged me away onto one of the carriages. Paulette and Maurice tried frantically to get me back but the rest of the servants blocked their way.

Screaming with all my might, on the ride to his house, no one came to rescue me. I had no desire to go with him any of those times he asked me to when buying our vegetables, and still I did not.

It was a dreary place. Hardly any colour nor signs of life, apart from one ripped flag flapping lethargically in the wind.

As we got out of the carriage, I turned and sprinted in the other direction but two servants were ready in expectation that I was going to do just that.

Monsieur came after me and said, "Don't try to resist me. This is your home now. You belong to me."

He grabbed my waist and pushed me forward. Before reaching the door to the house he whispered in my ear, "Sensational things have taken place here. Things that you will learn to be apart of."

This comment turned my stomach and made me even more afraid to go inside. It took him a great deal of effort to push me inside the large iron door and a much greater effort to push me up into his bed quarters.

There he took off his jacket and locked the door. As he came towards me, I appeared to be frozen in my tracks. With a bony hand, he traced it down my arm. With one swift movement, when he was least expecting it, I punched his face with my remaining arm and turned to kick him in the abdominal area. These rapid blows sent him sprawling on the floor.

When remembered that I was locked in, I opened a window and climbed out. I had climbed out of windows a many number of times when back at the manor. It was the only way I could flee under the careful eye of my stepmother without waking anyone up. I used to walk through the forest during the night. Enjoying the freedom and the cool night air.

However it was much harder to climb down the outer wall of Monsieur Le Peau's house for it did not have many potholes that I could rest my feet upon. Halfway down a certain brick crumbled beneath my foot and propelled me to fall down and onto a dead shrub.

The pain forced me from getting to my feet again so it was not long for Monsieur Le Peau to find me and haul me back into the house.

To keep me from escaping yet again, he chained my feet together, making it impossible to run. He told me he would try to infringe me some other day when I have become settled. In the meantime I was given endless chores to help speed up the process.

After feeding the animals, up rooting weeds, planting new crops, dusting, cooking meals, refurnishing the furniture, cleaning the second floor rooms and washing his clothes, my hatred for him became worse.

Whilst polishing his armour, I decided to try and escape one last time. What he did not know was that my father had taught me how to use a sword.

When he called me into his living quarters to inspect my work yet again, I began my carefully staged plan.

"Oh I do hate to see you in irons. I'd remove them if only you'd promise not to run away again." He said when coming nearer to me.

"I have no reason to stay." I replied with distaste.

"You belong to me now."

"I belong to no one. Least of all you." I explained for the tenth time.

"I do wish you would reconsider my offer." He pleaded while nearing closer.

"I would rather rot." I spat and turned away.

Taking his chance, he grabbed a handful of my hair and twisted it around his finger. "I had a horse like you. Magnificent creature. Stubborn just like you. Wilful to a fault. She too just needed to be broken."

After he shoved my hair near his face to sniff, I cautiously reached back to his belt and took hold off his sword. "You will maintain your distance sir."

"Oh do say please." He crooned.

At that time, I withdrew the sword from his belt and turned to aim it at his face. I held his face up with it by the chin and said please.

"I could hang you for this." He warned

"Not if you are dead." I responded.

"I do love your spirit." He exclaimed and pushed my hand away.

I was ready for him. I whipped back with his sword and sliced his cheek. As he stumbled back in alarm, I revealed a good deal larger sword from the sack of armour that I had been polishing. I stood poised in front of him with the two swords ready.

"My father was an expert swordsman, Monsieur. He taught me well. Now hand me that key or I swear on his grave I will slit you from navel to nose." I threatened.

With a shaky hand he held out the key to the chains on my feet.

Outside of his manor I congratulated myself with my getaway. I was free.

I belonged to neither Monsieur Le Peau nor Baroness Rodmilla De Ghent.

Danielle walked down the road with a skip in my step. Heading for a new life.

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	2. The Rainbow After The Storm

Authors Note: Thankyou for the many reviews. I was so overwhelmed to see that I had seven for the first chapter! And to top it off none of them were bad. You seemed generally pleased to read my story. Thankyou so much.

I know this is an extremely short chapter but I needed it to end after I informed you that a year had passed. But do not fret I have the day off school on Friday so you can look for the 3rd chapter then.

Please review to tell me what you think of it. I could use some pointers.

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Rainbow After the Storm

Danielle walked towards her home. No! She stopped dead in her tracks. It is not be home. It was never my home! The baroness discarded me, I am no longer allowed to step foot in it.

What can I do? Where will I live?

Perhaps I could live in the woods for the time being. That way I could see Paulette and Louisa when they venture out of the house long enough to collect fruit from the trees.

However, I would not be able to survive long in the woods without appropriate shelter.

I was shaken from my thoughts when a large and prestige carriage passed along the tracks. A man whom I recognised as Captain Laurent. He rang the bell and was gushed at the sight of three exhausted women running up to greet him.

I could not hear what they were saying but whatever it was it put a smile across Rodmilla and Marguerite's faces. To my shock it also put a small grin on Jacqueline's lips as she closed the iron doors.

What I assumed was correct. I had noticed several times that she seemed cheerier around the young Captain. They would make a fine match.

Just as soon as they left his sight, they emerged again in their most expensive gowns and followed him into the carriage.

This ripened Danielle's curiosity but put it aside to visit her friends. They were just as happy to see her, as she was to see them.

They informed her that Captain Laurent was by to collect all three girls, for the King and Queen wished to address them.

Shortly afterwards did Jacqueline return to inform that The King sent her mother and her sister to the Americas. They lied about my whereabouts when I was known as Nicole.

The manner now belonged to Jacqueline De Ghent. Hearing this news she chose to take me under her arm as not one of her servants but a sister. Such a title I had sought to hear since my ninth year.

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Baroness De Ghent's trial took place the day after my marriage ceremony. I could not bear to attend, although I did hear of the verdict. Both Baroness Rodmilla and her daughter Marguerite were accused of treason and sent on a boat to the Americas.

I'm glad. They were a distressing couple. On the other hand it does counteract with my new agreement with father about people's compensation. But I am willing to let it slide just this once.

Yesterday was my first day spent with my wife, Gabriella. I cannot believe I have a wife. I am a husband and will soon be the King of France.

Once again I am overwhelmed by my responsibilities. A few months ago I would have been climbing out the window and running for my life. How can I be doing such things like that now that I have another person sharing my bed at nights?

Danielle would know what to do in this situation. She would see the look of anguish on my face and reassure me.

But she is not here. She is not the woman is the corner with the royal ring on her finger. Gabriella cannot make me feel good about myself. Well I'm not sure if she can. She has not spoken since saying 'I do'.

When she has finished crying, an interpreter will assist us to communicate.

Lord, what am I speaking of. We cannot go about living like this. Constantly in a state of melancholy and misapprehension.

What would have happened if I went after Danielle at the church? Would she have forgiven me? Would we be married? Where is she now?

As question after question passed through my mind. A crash awakened me from my thoughts. Gabriella had fallen off her chair and was sobbing again.

Rushing to get to her and help her back up onto a nearby stool. Her eyes screamed with agony while her body shook with distraught and pain.

I held her hands in mine. They were freezing! I remembered how she had been seated in that very chair for the entire evening without consuming any of the food that was brought to her. I decided to wrap her in one of the new woven bedspreads but before I could leave to retrieve it she clasped her arms around me.

I hugged her back and noticed her trebling body reduced every so slowly until it was still. We stayed in that position for more than ten minutes until she withdrew herself by into her chair.

"I will try my best to salvage a warm blanket for you. I will return soon." I told her even though I knew she could not understand me.

Several minutes later I returned to my bedchamber to find her sleeping in the chair. It was such an uncomfortable chair so I ever so gently removed her from it and placed her on top of the bed with the blanket over her.

A sudden realisation occurred to me. During that time of aiding Gabriella I had not thought about Danielle or the desolate life in which I possess.

If I could help others less fortunate than myself than maybe it would relieve me of my current predicaments.

This strategy continued for approximately a year until a not so sudden death aroused him from it.

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	3. Identical Grief

Authors Note: I am so unbelievably sorry. I know I promised you faithful fans that I would post my third chapter about a month ago but my computer got a virus just before I finished this chapter so it erased ALL of it. It took a fortnight to get it up and running again and then a further two weeks to rewrite it. And you know how once you've written something and you have to write it again from memory, it takes twice as long because you want it just like the original one. Well that's what happened.

You have my deepest apologies.

Hope you like it.

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Identical Grief

King Francis died late July. He suffered from what seemed like influenza and cancerous disease for quite some time. Developing the illness two years before requesting that his only son Prince Henry marry. His fear of leaving before Henry was properly wed grew as soon as his son made regular trips to the outside world without his permission or appropriate security.

Henry did not know of his disease until it was too late. His father had managed to keep his secrets very well hidden. He didn't find out until Francis collapsed one chilly autumn morning. His mother, Marie, had known all along but was sworn to secrecy. She confessed a week subsequent to his collapse.

Overwhelmed by his rapidly increasing number of responsibilities, no more did Henry need to search for something to keep him occupied. It was handed over to him willingly.

A doctor visited the castle on a regular basis. He confirmed that The King's days were numbered. Upon learning this, Francis took the opportunity to educate his son of his duties.

"It is vital to maintain the significance of your status. The men of our family have carried the burden of royal prominence for six generations. You must not falter!" The King said whilst lying in bed. The room, that almost always had at least a dozen servants scuttling about the place, was relatively silent. Containing only Henry and the sick man.

"I know, Father." I replied.

He sighed. "I know you know. But it must be branded with hot coals into your head. It must be as simple to remember, as it is to breathe. You must not forget, Henry!" he said fiercely. His face grew red as he began a coughing fit.

I moved closer to the edge of the bed and felt the coals had turned cold. I removed them and walked over to the blazing flames to replace them. My father saw this and was not pleased.

"You do not have to do that! Call in a servant."

"I am happy to do it for you father." I replied.

"I said leave it!" he yelled, pushing himself up to see better, "It is not your place to do that for me. What have I told you not two minutes before? Remain in your high status! If I wished for you to become a commoner I would not have worked so hard to leave you with everything. Now SERVANT!"

The coughing returned, worse that earlier. The King slumped down onto his pillow, his face still crimson. I walked over with the coal coals and put them back under the covers near his feet.

"There, it is done. Why trouble the servants when it is a simple task that can be over and done with?" I said calmly while sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

A servant came into the room looking flushed. I presumed he had been running to get here. "You are no longer needed." I explained. I looked over at my father and saw a look of disappointment in his weary eyes.

Before the servant could leave I told him to wait outside just in case they required him again.

"I do not understand you Henry. You have changed in the last year. That is not entirely terrible, I see you have cared for your wife better than I had expected. You have matured very quickly but you must comprehend that when I die you will become the rightful King. You will do things that you may not want to." The King explained.

I dropped my head. Beset by what my father had just said. I had received the first bitter taste of what life might feel like when I took the throne. I glanced over at the old man and realised that for once in my life I did not want my father to walk into the world of the spirits.

Francis waved his hand, "Now go away, I need my rest. We will finish this discussion tomorrow."

I was glad to leave his father's side. I needed time to think. That night, per usual, I waited until the castle was still and my wife was asleep, until I crawled out of the bedroom window. I had done this many times so I no longer needed the aid of a rope or bed sheets.

I paid a shilling to Marcus the guard. We had made an agreement long ago that whenever I left at night, a shilling would allow me to pass through the gates without being detected.

I generally walk in the direction of the woods by the lake. This is the only time I get to myself. It gives me a time to think and to breathe.

I return to the castle before day breaks. Normally everybody is still asleep but when I returned this morning, the servants were in a commotion. Some were even crying.

I sprinted to my parent's bedchamber only to find a lump covered with a long golden-lined cloth on the bed. Gabriella was desperately trying to sooth my distraught mother.

A priest came to take the body away. Henry made arrangements for the funeral and planned when to announce his father's death to the country.

Also Henry needed to make preparations for his becoming King but that was last on his list. Eventually Marie had to do it for him.

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Danielle was also suffering from grief. One of her oldest friends, Maurice, passed suddenly while tending to the chickens.

His wife Louise was in hysterics. She could not bear to make the burial arrangements so Danielle and Paulette did it for her. They made sure that everything was ready and that Louise kept to her bed to recover.

They had not heard of the King's death. Paulette was too busy to go to the town gathering and Danielle avoided them anyway.

Coincidentally, both funerals were on the same day. Although neither of them knew that.

Ever since she was named a countess, Danielle busied herself to her managing the estate, caring for her friends and the animals, reading her novels and of course, doing more than her fair share of housework. She wasn't about to hand over all her work to the servants now that she was given a new title.

Danielle and Jacqueline, now known as sisters, were more like confidants. They told each other everything… well Jacqueline did anyway. Danielle didn't like to express what she was really feeling.

Jacqueline recently confessed her fondness of Captain Laurent. I wasn't surprised. They would make such a darling couple!

I, myself, rather not attract any attention what so ever from the male sex. Life has been more pleasant without Monsieur Le Peau breathing down my neck. He is still somewhat fearful of me now.

Also I have removed all objects that remind me of the prince. Even though every trace of him ever being near me has vanished, he somehow comes back to haunt me, especially when the moon reveals itself at night. I usually take this opportunity to wander the through the empty forest.

This, however, can to an end when Maurice passed on. With the increase in the workload, managing his funeral arrangements and caring after Louise, I could not muster up the energy to go for a midnight stroll.

It took Paulette, Jacqueline and I five whole days until Maurice could be put beneath the Earth's surface.

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The crowd below drew their breaths as they received the news of The King's death. A few women shed a tear or two but the majority of the people bowed their heads in sorrow.

It was always a distressing time for the people, who adored their King so dearly. Also the adjustment to the new leader normally took a few months. They would just have to cope… silently.

Nevertheless it wasn't close to the amount of adjusting it would take Henry to fulfil the king of France's duties that were passed down to him. It usually took several years before Henry could run his country without hitches.

"My father devoted his life to this country. I can only hope I can live up to his example. With that, could you please spare the time to grieve with us at his funeral at the _Mémorial De Charlemagne_, four days from now?

King Francis once said 'What ever the strife or famine, come to France and you'll be home."

I trust you will all do the absolute best you can to abide by what he had once said. He is gone but not forgotten!"

With this I turned and left. I saw my mother smiling at me through her tears. She will be better soon enough, they all will.

King Francis' funeral was a bleak one. It was safe to say that at least half of the town was surrounding his coffin. Paying their debt to him by just being there.

Not many people witnessed the death of a public figure. This was more of a social event than it was the commemoration of a king. Some of these people attended the service not because they want to show their respect to the past leader but because it was what seemed to be trendy to be witnessed there.

It was a very formal funeral. All four priests were there even if it was only the oldest of the four who organized what was to happen.

Many tears were shed, most of which were from my mother. She tried her best to keep them under control; it was only twenty minutes through that she became more noticeable. It was difficult to believe that she had any tears left for her to spill.

I was the complete opposite. I wasn't that be fond of crying, especially not in public. I remember when my father instructed me never to cry. I was about ten years of age at the time. I have kept my promise to him. The only time I disobeyed him (unintentionally) was a single year ago.

I couldn't think about that now! Glancing over at Gabriella, I saw her looking sheepish and out of place. She did not know enough about King Francis to detest him nor did she know him long enough to feel any sort of affection towards him. This was evident as she shifted uncomfortably, trying to eliminate any attention that might be in her direction. I reached out to hold her hand but she jerked it away, averting the eyes of the people nearby.

Simultaneously we moved away from each other. Her cheeks were that of a rose. I felt so ashamed! I even remembered wishing it were I, lying in the coffin at that particular moment. And what's more, I felt a certain hint of desolation. I had often hoped that some day we would have a content relationship. She and I have not yet reached that point in our marriage.

This was the moment in time that I desperately wanted out more than anything. At times I fantasised about what my life would be like if I was not apart of the royal family. Would I be as unhappy as I am right now?

At the end of the ceremony, I was one of the first to leave. Most people were heading in the direction of the town, market place or the castle. I, however, stumbled to what I thought was the route leading into deeper woods.

Repeatedly tripping over rocks, tree branches, boulders and such was the only indication that I had travelled too far into unknown territory after what seemed like an hour of walking.

Slumping onto a large stone, defeated against the mental notions creeping its way inside my head. Not only was I invaded with thoughts and physically exhausted but now lost.

Five minutes more brought me too my senses. If I stayed here any longer, guards will be ordered to find me. The castle would be in a frenzy. My disappearance would bring unnecessary strife not only to my family but also to my future nation's people.

Presuming I moved in an easterly direction, I needed to be behind the setting sun. Half an hour through my journey, I came across a small cemetery. It was a pitiful little thing really. Barely enough room to contain any more than 25 bodies yet 40 or more were squeezed in beside each other to eliminate any excess space. I assumed it was used to bury the dead bodies of servants.

I noticed a quarter of a dozen individuals finishing memorial service of one of their friends. They were clinging to each other for support especially the oldest female of the lot. Underneath her tear sodden face, I had the faintest glimmer of familiarity. However, a scrawny young male blocked her from view.

Not wanting to disturb them, I carefully sneaked behind the trees. Not long afterwards, I was burdened by my feeling of guilt. I had invaded them during a distressing time in their lives. The loss of someone dear should never be overrun by strangers. Although I could hardly describe myself as a stranger. More of an intruder.

Thinking about this I had not taken notice of a particular someone crossing my path. Bumping into her was the only indication that she was there at all. I was so lost in my thoughts that I did not even have the decency to apologise. Only her voice jolted me awake.

Pausing almost immediately, wondering if what I heard was correct. It took me several moments before I could summon up the nerve to turn around and prove myself right.

Her long chestnut hair dangled loosely around her waist. Her black-laced indigo dress was crumpled and smeared with dirt. She had taken short and meaningless steps away from where we had collided but was still within reach. Her shaking hand indicated that she was clearly troubled.

Before she could walk any further I called out her name. Her actual name not her mothers. I had practised numerous times, never imagining that I would have to use it.

Ever so slowly, she turned to face me. It was her! It was Danielle!

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	4. Lost Souls Reunion

Authors Note: I am so unbelievably sorry. It's been chaos here. First there's the usual – assignments, school, tv. But this year I decided to enrol myself in Duke of Edinburgh. Such a mistake! Walking all day in the freezing cold with a 15 kilo pack. Something I will NEVER do again. Oh but I haven't told you my favourite part of the trip – getting lost in the bush. The map was wrong but nobody told us the map was wrong. We walked to a dead end and the map says to go downhill but instead there is another path further up. So what do we do? We follow the map and go downhill. DOWN A CLIFF!

Apart from that I'm sorry about the delay in the chapter. I was hoping to add something else onto this one but thought it would take to long. I appreciate the reviews guys. They really help. Keep them coming. Enjoy!

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Lost Souls Reunion

I cannot breathe but I must let my story known.

Friday was the day we laid Maurice to rest. I had called upon the priest the day before but he was otherwise occupied. They all were. They had prior engagements. However, he was available one hour after noon.

The only problem was that around noon when we started to make our way to our little patch in the woods where family members and co-workers who aren't wealthy enough to be placed in one of the more prestige cemeteries, Louise did not seem to be able to muster the strength to leave. She did not want to let him go and by attending the service it was affirming just that… he was gone.

45 minutes had passed before Paulette and I had persuaded Louise to leave her bedside and a more half hour for her to allow us to guide her shaky body out the door and into the woods.

Mon pere Vincent had been awaiting our arrival for two hours longer than we had agreed and decided to depart but we found him before he could walk but metres away. He disregarded our absence and convinced me that it had happened many a times.

Gustave had remained with the priest as we made our way over to the open grave. He was the person who carried Maurice's body and who had dug the grave. I tried to help him but he insisted that he could manage and sent me on my way. I am forever grateful to him for however I might have appeared at that moment; I wouldn't have been able to cope.

The two women were more emotional than I thought. Louise and Paulette clung to each other for support and wept. I turned to Gustave, my dearest friend, and hugged him close.

As mon pere preached to us about Maurice's life story, I stood in silence. I had not known Louise's husband for long. Only in the years when I was made a servant and we worked side by side. And then he was ripped away from us in my stepmother's desperate search for money. So in truth I had known him for less than a decade.

I was nudged from my thoughts as he was put into the open grave. I stared at a corner of the dirt stained cloth that he was wrapped in. Insignificant as it was, I felt I needed to scrub and scrub at it until it was worthy enough for him to be covered in. Like I had not done enough. I resisted the urge to grab the unclean item and run with it. Return with a better.

Mon pere moved on to talk about the goodness of Christ and how they would be walking together in harmony. How being buried under the earth would assist in his journey to heaven above.

All the while Gustave had been holding my hand. He moved to begin to slow task of moving the soil on top of him. Louise let out a short wail of despair. Paulette hugged her. Nobody noticed that my hands were trembling or that my tanned complexion was turning pale for I had ceased breathing.

Lack of oxygen forced me to stumble backwards. A single tear slipped down my left cheek as I turned and ran away from it all.

I imagine I was running for somewhat ten minutes before I crashed head first into a large tree. I clutched onto it for several seconds before I began sliding down until I sat slumped on one of its roots, crying with all my heart. Not only for the death of Maurice, although that was the major part of it, but relief. Since the day Maurice dropped of a heart attack, I had not been able to weep for him. Looking at Louise and Paulette cry openly I felt ashamed of myself. Now that they flowed over my cheeks I felt it was evidence that I cared enough about him to do so.

A few minutes later, I began to worry what Paulette, Louise and Gustave would think of me now that I had run away on one of the most important events in our lifetime that they needed my support most. They must be out of their minds with worry in addition to their grief.

I picked myself up and began heading back. I kept my head down most of the way, too occupied with my thoughts and emotions. Along the way I bumped into a person travelling in the opposite direction. Strange that I had not heard him coming but I didn't think too much about it. I apologised and walked two steps before I came upon a familiar smell. Puzzled, I slowed my step and tried to remember where it was when I had first come across it.

It was that rich musty smell that I had witnessed one year ago. My pulse rose from my normal steady rate to something much faster, my breath also quickened and my whole body shook. I had promised myself that if I came across him I would walk away.

As much as I protested, my steps were shorter than I hoped they would be. He called out my name before I could get anywhere. One simple word confirmed my theory. I stood still, praying as I had once before that I had wings so I could fly away.

Biting my lip, I turned to face him.

Henry

He wore the same tight pants and leather boots. But instead of his usual bright colours such as marron and sapphire that reflected his mood, he was dressed in black. I also noticed that his hair had much grown since I last saw him but apart from that he was still Henry, his face showed this.

'Your Highness' I said, curtseying so that my head was lower than his. I stared at the ground, afraid to look up at his disappointed face and sad russet eyes. It took many moments until I realised that he was not going to speak.

Raising as I turned around, avoiding his glance at any possible moment. Nevertheless, I felt his eyes on my every movement. I wanted to escape.

"Danielle" he spoke softly, forcing me once again to turn and address him. He seemed to hesitate with the words on his tongue, afraid of what he might say. "Are you well?"

"Quite" I replied. I did not wish to get into a detailed discussion about my past year or the death of Maurice.

"I… I did not see you at the funeral this morning." He stated.

Does he speak of Maurice? How did he come to know of our affairs? "You must be mistaken for I most certainly attended. Why would I not witness the burial of one of my dearest friends?" I answered, confusion sweeping through my entire body.

"Am I to understand that you and my father had a close relationship." He said, looking just as bemused as I feel.

Now I was for a stumble at my words. "Your father?" I repeated, "Is that whom you are speaking of?"

He shifted on his feet. "But of course. It was publicly known that he passed less than a week ago. His funeral was today."

I was shocked to hear of this. And from him! "Oh! I had not known. I was busy attending other matters. I am sorry for your loss."

He appeared to be grieved much. The sparkle once recognized in his eyes had diminished. Also observed, he looked to of aged a great deal overnight. He seemed more like his father now that he was gone. As if a piece of his spirit had been passed on as he did.

While I was carefully examining Henry's facial features, particularly his eyes, he happened to glance upwards at mine. Our eyes locked. Neither of which were able to look away.

A stick cracking in the distance averted my attention. Reminding me of where I should be. I took a step away from him. "I must go!" I informed him before running off in the opposite direction.

Half way to the graveyard I paused to pick some wild flowers. Hopefully it will be a reminder to Maurice that he is free. When I approached it, Paulette, Louise, Gustave and mon pere Vincent were nowhere to be seen. I expected that they had gone back to the manor. I placed the flowers on top of his grave before leaving myself.

Back home I apologised for abandoning them at the funeral but did not mention Henry. At night I thought about him though. Something I promised myself I would cease to do two months after the masque.

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I dreamt about her that night. It was so vivid. As if she was right there in front of me. Per usual, it began with the night she was dressed as an angel with a distinct haze surrounding her like a halo, bringing out the ripples in her hair and outlining the glitter on her cheeks, formed into a dazzling mask.

Normally the dream would end with a tear welling up in one of her eyes and suddenly breaking loose onto the crevice above her cheekbone. A swift swish of material and the dream was over. I would wake up in hope to see the woman I longed for instead of the woman I am supposed to.

However, in this particular dream a new image of her was added to the collection. It was too surreal to be appreciated. Presented like a collage, one vision meshing into the next. Some I cannot even remember experiencing. I awoke only to feel confusion.

The day was a continuous blur. Important errands seemed insignificant, tasks pointless. Questions asked of me where only to be repeated minutes later. I could only think of Danielle and our conversation. It kept rolling around in my head so by the end of the day all the people around me somehow reminded me of her even though they had nothing in common. Nobody was as individual and free spirited as Danielle de Barbarack.

During supper that evening an astonishing idea came to me. Danielle spoke of a close friend of hers passing and before meeting her in the woods I recall coming across familiar faces at a grave not too far away.

How could I have been so blind? The grieving woman at the funeral was one of servants Marguerite introduced to me the day after the tennis match. It all makes perfect sense! Danielle must have been attending the funeral of one of her servant friends and was too preoccupied to attend the town meeting to be informed about the King's death.

I must have seemed like a complete fool. If I had only been paying attention to what she was saying instead of staring into her eyes or less infatuated with my own petty problems I would have realized sooner.

Annoyed with myself, I left my food untouched and walked around the castle. Sheer frustration made me unstill. I wound up at the corridor my parents and I used to walk along many times. It was the only place where we could be free of each other with each other.

The silence of the night calmed me. Not much later did I hear footsteps. I did not bother to turn and see who it was for I knew I would soon find out.

"Your father and I used to walk up and down here late at night. He used to say it was our only escape. When I told him I was pregnant with you, he stood in that very spot that you are now and did not leave for many nights. Later he told me he was overcome with happiness and was debating on what your name should be."

She stepped closer to me and rested her hand on my shoulder. "You may not know it but underneath his strict disposition he did love you. And if he were watching he would be proud."

I stared out into the distance. Absorbing the new knowledge of my father's personality. Difficult as it was to imagine, it was unlikely that my mother's statement of my father to be untrue.

"I do hope you understand why he did what he did. It was in order to protect you, Henry. If you had chosen to take that path, adversity and turmoil would have interrupted both your lives."

Here my mother paused. Tears coming to her eyes. She dabbed at them furiously. Taking a deep breath she continued.

"I only hope that one day you will be able to forgive him. He did not mean to bring harm in any fashion."

I racked my brain for anything that might relate to what my mother was speaking of but could find none. At last I turned to face her and spoke. "I do not understand."

She slowly nodded. I could practically hear her thoughts churning inside her head, her words uncertain on her tongue. "Perhaps it is best." She finally admitted.

She stood still for a few moments. Looking over at me one last time before turning to go back the way she came. A little less than three metres away from me she stopped abruptly. Not bothering to turn and face me, she spoke her words, hiding her face.

"You are happy aren't you Henry?" she said softly.

"What response will convince you mother?" She drew a sharp breath before continuing her journey to the end of the hall.

I stood there until late into the night, staring down at my hands. I knew I had been much too harsh with my mother but frankly I did not care. Once again Danielle has pulled my entire life out beneath my feet and left me completely unbalanced.

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	5. Mysteries Of The Courtier

Authors Note: Wow! It's been months since I last updated, I've been working on another story but I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to post it. Any way this chapter took me ages to write because it's a lead up to what's going to happen next (I've got the whole story figured out). Also I'm going to edit my other chapters so if you still find mistakes let me know. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I'm not all that happy with it but the best is yet to come. Keep reviewing! Thanks.

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Mysteries of the Courtier

"I am deeply sorry!"

For the umpteenth time today I have managed to lose control of what I am handling and watch as it smashes onto the floor.

Paulette walked solemnly over to where I stood and rested her hand on my shoulder. "Do not worry. It is not a great loss. There are several more in the cellar."

As I bent over to pick up the remains of the water jug, I took one final look at Paulette before she turned away. Her eyes were red from tears and lack of sleep and she seemed to move more slowly now. Her eightieth year was drawing nearer and I realised that in the later years more deaths are to be expected for nobody can be immortal and only God can stop time.

Sweeping away the final shards of broken pottery, I made my way down the corridor and into the cellar. Instead of searching for the spare water jugs, I rested myself upon a broken chair. It creaked under the pressure but did not falter.

The entire morning I had been tortured with shame. Paulette was being kind to me because she supposed I was grieving after Maurice. I couldn't bring myself to tell her my mind was inundated with notions of another man.

Why were my every thoughts tortured with his face? Am I forced to live my life like it was last year?

I sit pondering as an hour passes yet it seems like only minutes. I gaze out the window at the darkening day and a wave of realisation hits me. I was supposed to meet Gustave near the big willow tree before the sun disappears beneath the treetops.

Removing my cloth apron, I hurried off to explain to Paulette where I shall be and ran through the forest to my desired destination.

Passing the final tree I saw his figure looking out over the water. "I apol…" I said before stopping abruptly. For an instant, the man before looked like Henry, as he used to be. He turned to face me and all was lost. He became Gustave again.

Still I did not speak, trying to regather the image of him but it was impossible. Shaking my head, I composed myself and repeated the sentence I had not finished.

"I apologise. I hope you were not waiting long."

"Not at all. I was late myself. Leonardo wished me to research something for his upcoming art piece. He says it is not just about what you see but the answers you find. I have much to learn from him."

I forgot Gustave was Leonardo's apprentice. He told me they do a great many things together but Gustave still has to work with his mother so that restricts the amount of meetings they are able to have.

"Are you enjoying being under his tutelage as much as you did 6 months ago?"

I walked over to a nearby log and sat down. He soon followed suit. "Yes, of course! It is strenuous labour but I enjoy it so."

"You look exhausted. Do you get much rest?"

Gustave definitely seemed to have neglected some nights of sleep, in order to assist the great artist. His face was stretched, as if some unknown force was weighing him down, his clear skin looked ghostly pale and there were dark hollows beneath his eyes… his eyes however had not changed. They're still as lively as ever they were and somewhere deep in his pupils, a mischievous glint was never to fade. The day it leaves is the same day the world will collapse.

"I have to admit that I have gone without my usual amount of slumber, but it is for a worthy cause. For I am assisting one of the best painters known throughout the world. I am witness to masterpieces in the making. I would not wish to sleep for another decade if I thought I would miss it."

With this, he did something that I had not seen him do in weeks, he smiled.

In that moment, I was exceptionally proud of him. He would help create history and I was satisfied to support him in whatever way possible.

How wonderfully awkward. Us seated there, grinning at each other. Just as I thought tension would brew, he playfully pushed me on the shoulder. About the push him back, by twisting his body, my balance was lost and I toppled off the log.

"I'm going to get you back for that, you little worm." I said as I was getting myself off the ground.

Standing on the opposite side of the log he spoke with cheer in his voice, "Only if you are able to catch me."

Positioned on either side of the log, we played the endless game of cat and mouse. As I moved to my left, he would move to his left leaving the same equal amount of space between us. Finally after circling the log several times, catching him off guard, I jumped over the log and tackled him to the ground. Situated on a slope, we rolled over each other until colliding with a large rock some few feet away.

Laughing as we got up, a sudden pain in my ankle threatened to bring me down again. Rubbing the tender spot, I looked up at Gustave who was doing the same as I was but to his elbow joint.

Looking at me, Gustave asked if I was well. I replied as best I could but as soon as we began walking, the pain emitting from my ankle worsen to such an extent that I leaned on Gustave for support.

"You will never get anywhere if you repeatedly tell falsehood." Even when saying this he did not let go of my waist, in which he was shifting my weight onto the uninjured foot.

Returning to the meeting place, he dropped me onto the log and proceeded to withdraw an object from within his pocket.

"Would it ease your suffering if I presented you with an item especially received from a man of great importance?"

"I believe it would indeed." With that, he held out the object in his hand. It was a book, but not just any book. I had heard murmurings of it from the town's people. Rumours including that it was concerning women being allowed educational privileges in parts of the world and it was the first male author to publish a book in regard to this. Specifically to promote the idea.

Gazing in awe I raised my head to speak to Gustave, "This is such a honour. I had not heard that the book had been released in France at this time. How did he come to acquire this?"

"Signor Da Vinci has his connections. Am I to assume you are in a state of glee and are too preoccupied with examining the precious novel that thanking your contributor has entirely slipped your mind?"

"Of course I want to thank Leonardo! The next you see him, send a message from me. There are simply no words that can express my gratitude. From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate his thoughtfulness."

Sighing in astonishment, I turned the book over carefully in my hands. The soft leather brushed gently across my open palm. In one swift movement I ran over to Gustave and hugged him. After some moments I let go of him and looked up to see a smiling face.

Still grinning he said, "I shall pass along the message. I'm sure Da Vinci will be thoroughly enjoyed to hear that you are thrilled with his gift."

Soon later he departed, explaining that his mother requested he help her before the night grows dim. I wondered if it was still not too late to read some of the novel before I should return to the manor. Agreeing that I could, I settled myself neatly under the large willow tree, leaning my back against the smooth bark and resting the book on my uplifted knee.

Engrossed in the scattered words, I felt as if it were my very thoughts written on each page. As if I were connected somehow, I stayed longer than I intended to. Stopping only because the setting sun was emitting less and less light for me to read by.

Standing up from underneath the tree, a glimmer of colour caught my eye. Pushing past the drooping branches, I was now in full view of the beautiful effect that the ruby sun was casting onto the lake. As the gentle breeze caressed the water, sparkles dashed across the decorated stream. Staying minutes longer, only the sudden cold awoke my senses. Taking one final glimpse I walked away.

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The night sky was a deep blue, little to no clouds appeared in its expanse. I walked passed the tall trees and into deeper forest, gazing desperately for something to distract my attention from yesterday's events. I was unforgivably brutal with mother and it was clear today that she was upset, still I did not apologise. On the contrary, throughout the day, she spent her time trying to seek my forgiveness though I did not want to hear her. Every attempt to apologise was interrupted, usually by my account. At one point, I could not find something to excuse myself from her so I simply turned away during mid-speech. I know I must say sorry to her but not now.

These hateful emotions tortured me until I caught a glimmer of the surrounding lake. The effect of the water was stunning. The soft wind toppled leaves onto the surface and caused tiny ripples in its direction. Grateful to have something take my mind off my impertinence towards my mother, I moved sideways to view the light through the trees. During this time, a peculiar object diverted my attention.

Left beneath a willow was a thickly bound leather book. Picking it up, I was surprised to see it in impeccable condition. Turning it over to search for a clue to determine whom the owner could be, I found a message hidden on the opposite side of the cover.

Each person deserves a chance and many more to follow 

_This prized possession inspired me to paint a face_

_Use it however you choose _

_Leonardo Da Vinci_

I was astonished to read that the previous owner of the book was a face I was certain to never forget. He and I had not conversed since I had wed. Only on occasions would Leonardo visit but our conversations were restricted to polite words and passing gestures. No more have we discussed such topics as life, love and recent debacles. Nor has he enlightened me with his latest discoveries and brilliant inventions. At times, when complications are aroused, I wish I had him to confide in.

Reading the inscription once more, it is obvious to see that I have been replaced by another confidant. One who has received his great respect.

Pondering over this concept, I was unaware of someone's presence behind me until they spoke.

Emerging from the bushes, Danielle moved towards where I was, saying, "I am incredibly sorry! I cannot believe I had left it behind. Besides, what are you still doing here? I thought you had retired to – "

Turning to watch her advance towards me, I was confused as what she was saying but then it seemed that as soon as she looked up at me face, it was not only I that was bewildered.

Staring in silence for some moments, it was she who was the first to tear her eyes away and lowered her head into a curtsey. Straightening, we began another uncomfortable silence.

"What are you doing here?" she asked finally.

A tremendous feel of longing came over me. I wanted to tell her what had been plaguing me these last couple of weeks. To talk of my father's death, becoming King, all the responsibilities involved, the argument with my mother and especially why I came out here every night.

Looking at her as she cocked her head slightly to one side and gazed at me with concerned eyes.

At that moment a realisation swept over me that expressing my thoughts would be far too improper. I should have known not to burden her with my problems even though I knew as soon as I did she would take it upon herself to clarify and offer advice, so illogically simple that I would quite possibly fall in love with her once again. Although it is impossible to combine more affection of her than what I already possess.

Glancing down at my feet, I ordered to prepare myself for our conversation that was to come. Before regaining my composure, I cleared my throat and took a deep breath.

"I err," stumbling along my words as I looked closely at her face and how the breeze trickled across her unkempt hair. Realising I had discontinued my sentence because of it, I quickly averted my sight to the trees on my left and said the first excuse that came into my head, "I needed some fresh air."

Mentally scolding myself for coming up with the insipid tale. Turning back to face her, it was all too clear that she didn't believe my statement. However she chose to ignore it.

"I only came here to collect my book."

What book? Completely forgetting that I held what she was seeking all along.

Before handing the item over, I caught a glimpse at the binder, which read the title.

"The Courtier!" I exclaimed, "I had not thought it been released in France yet. How did you come into possession of this?"

I knew the answer even before she responded. Thinking back to the inscription, it was now clear whom Leonardo Da Vinci favoured.

"I have heard much about it. Have you had a chance to read it yet?" I asked.

"Yes, I have. Only half way though." she replied.

Almost shifting into another silence she changed the subject.

"How are you coping with the amount of responsibility being king?" she asked.

Not one person has asked me that since my father died. I wondered if it was obvious that I had barely slept or ate in days, that getting through the hour was a constant struggle. If so, then why has no one counselled me?

Gazing at Danielle, it occurred to me that it was she who was the only person who knew what my troubles were, which buttons to push to get me into action and teach me to look at things in a different perspective.

"It is difficult. Since my father's passing, I am not only plagued with my own dilemmas, but with every Frenchman's in the country. I am uncertain – "

There I was interrupted by a very exasperated Danielle.

"This is your country, your people! It is your duty to protect them in any way possible. Even if it is from building an army to lowering farming cost so that men can afford bread to feed their children each day.

You are not alone in this fight! Many other kings have been faced with the same problems and overcome it with whatever they think is right. You will do the same. Think of the people you are helping with each decision you make. So do not complain about time you have not wasted. You have an obligation to your country and you will see it through!"

With her last lines, Danielle's tone rose to an alarming display. Never had I seen her so determined and I was shocked at her response. If I had expressed the same sort of feelings to some other person, they would have regarded me with sympathetic eyes and offer some condolence. Danielle was outraged at my reaction to royalty and scolded me for not doing better.

A new glimmer of hope was established in me, as I was no longer dreading the future.

"It is getting late." Danielle said, looking up at the darkened sky. "I best be going back."

Securing the book in her pocket, she turned to leave. Walking away, I noticed that she was limping terribly. Rushing to catch up with her I said, "Danielle you are limping. Are you hurt?"

"It is merely a sprained ankle."

Taking her hand I said, "Here let me help you."

She stiffened as we touched. "It is nothing really." she said but nevertheless I would not left go until she said something that astounded me beyond belief.

"Is your wife in good health?" she asked.

Instantly I dropped her hand and stumbled back a few steps. With a shaky voice I replied that she was.

Danielle curtseyed and left without another word.

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Despite my injury I ran home.

I went through the side door that led to the stairs. There I rested and caught my breath.

The hand that he touched was trembling. He was only trying to help yet his persistence worried me. He was determined to give his assistance even when I did not welcome it.

I attacked him with the only force I could think of. The effect was great. He let go at once.

I know I shouldn't have brought his wife into it but I had no other choice.

I needed saving and she came to my rescue.

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	6. Dawn Comes With Many Mysteries

Authors Note:  Yes! New Year's Resolution was to update another chapter by the end of January. Mwhahahaha! My sister left for France a few days ago so maybe I will get more of an insight to French culture rather than off google. By the way, Avignon is not a made up place, it is actually in south of France but I have no idea if it is near Longbourne or not.

Also to **LunarLitLover **no I am not British. I have never been outside the southern hemisphere for I live in Australia. And no to any of you American readers, I do not have any kangaroos, koalas, dingos or crocodiles in my backyard. Just one enthusiastic dog.

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Dawn Comes With Many Mysteries

One week after our encounter, I was more focused on my duties than ever before. Each morning was a chance to do something good for humanity and Danielle helped me see that every decision is equally important and deserves my complete attention.

Everyone in the palace could see the new light that shone in me. They were no doubt debating what, or indeed who, had initiated it. I had not uttered a single word about the conversation Danielle and I had to anyone and I promised it would remain a secret.

Danielle was my secret. Nothing too mischievous surely. There is no harm in me making conversation with a person… one in particular. There was to be no detrimental consequence that would arise from our meeting, nothing that would affect the state of the nation anyway. I just rather people not know I get my inspiration from her.

Danielle probably doesn't even realise the confidence she sparked in me.

It was around noon on a Tuesday morn. I was just finishing lunch. Six days ago I realised it ridiculous that I continue to starve myself. I mean, no king can fight a battle on an empty stomach!

Laurent came up to me as I was finishing my salad, informing me of the meeting I was late for. I left the table quickly, making my way to the board room.

Five men were gathered around the large table, suddenly silenced by presence. I strode across the room and sat at the large chair at the head of the table.

Remaining eye contact with the people, I nodded my head once. This commenced the start of the meeting.

At once a bulky man on my immediate left began his speech on this week's proposal.

"Good afternoon Your Majesty. It has come to my attention that the administrative counsel has come to a decision on the whereabouts of their recent development. As we all know, they have been debating for many months as to where to construct a large enough prison to suit for nearly half of France's criminals.

Our previous king agreed to this plan and gave his opinion on where it should be built. Somewhere in the central of France, he said, yet not too close to a village so that any escapees can take refuge. As ingenious as these arrangements were, the counsel found it difficult to find such a site. However they have prevailed. It is a remote location, not too far from Avignon yet not too close either. Rough terrain will make it difficult for prisoners to find their way around but if we collapse the building that stands today, we will have place to begin build."

I nodded my head in agreement. It seemed a well thought plan, as every complication were resolved. However, I needed more knowledge before giving my consent.

"How many criminals would the prison be allowed to hold?"

The man looked over the parchment in front of him. "According to the size, the estimate is just over four thousand."

"What security will be taken?" I asked again.

Suddenly another man spoke up, "Your Majesty, my name is Jacque Monde, Head of Security and Police Enforcement. Safety regarding the prison will be as such, one hundred guards throughout the interior, twenty more surrounding the building, fifteen feet tall stone fence and one entrance heavily guarded. The prisoners will be separated due to gender and all activities will be under strict surveillance, as will be visitors."

"What sentence will be given for such crimes?" a man at the far corner of the table asked.

Once again Jacque Monde replied, "Assaulting a member of the royal family or army will be 40 years jail time, plot to harm a member of the royal family or army is naturally, life, theft of an item worth over 100 francs is 35 years whilst theft of an item worth below 100 francs gives sentence to 20 years. Murder will be 50 years, extra time will be given depending on how many dead or the previous status of the deceased. Carrying any sort of weapon on to the castle grounds will be seen as a plot to kill and hence will be sentenced to life.

There are many other minor crimes I have not named, but I am intending to construct a list of them as soon as possible."

Meanwhile I was trying to think of any faults in their plans, however none came to me. I was about to give my approval and conclude the meeting when I remembered something that was not discussed.

"Where will the jail be built?"

"At the ruins at Longbourne, Your Majesty." he replied.

My entire body went numb. My jaw dropped and my hands were shaking underneath the table. Someone else at the table was speaking but no sound reached my ears. Inside my head I was screaming – No! No! No! No! No! No! No!

However the word escaped my lips. Everyone in the room turned to face me, staring in confusion and disbelief. I hastily struggled to get control over myself to ask the dreaded question, "What will happen to the ruins in question?"

"It will be knocked down to accommodate the prison." Jacque Monde replied. He must have noticed my paled expression for he quickly added, "The ruins are just that ruins. The building was torn apart during the war. What is left is basic structure and a bunch of trees. I am certain that it will not be missed."

"Obviously not certain enough." I snapped.

Jacque Monde was momentarily silenced. "If you have any objection to our carefully designed plans, a fault in the size or the amount of military staff, then please offer your opinion and, by all means, we shall make the proper adjustments to our arrangements."

I wanted to reach out and strangle the man but somehow remained in my current position yet mildly satisfied my anger by grinding the back of my teeth.

Monsieur Monde rose from his chair whilst saying, "I am assuming that is a no. If we have nothing further to discuss here gentlemen, I suggest –"

"Despite your assumptions I have many inquiries about the subject in question yet need to further my research. So before I give my authorization, I require time to look over your designs for any… faults." I spoke my last word laced with venom, staring straight into the eyes of the red faced Head of Security.

"If you will excuse me gentlemen, I have much work to do." I said, rising from my own chair and leaving the room with haste.

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It was precisely ten days since I last saw Henry, yet still my thoughts were of him. However I tried my absolute best to rekindle the friendship I had briefly lost with Paulette, Louise, Jacqueline and even Gustave. When I was not working hard to manage the house, I was spending my spare time with them.

Paulette was showing lines of worry, for she was fretting about the amount of income we were receiving from the farm. Since my last encounter with Le Peau, he had learnt to stay away from our market. This put a sudden loss to our profits as we slid ever so reliably further into debt.

Louise was oblivious to our money troubles as she became weaker with anguish as the grief of Maurice continues. The more time past, the harder it was for her to adapt to him not being by her side. My heart broke every time I laid my eyes on her.

Gustave was beginning to wear thin as the strain of working such long hours and meeting with Da Vinci to paint was starting to show. The rare times we met were growing shorter and shorter as exhaustion seeped its way onto his every waking moment. I would offer to help him with his daily work but being the man that Gustave is, he refused saying that he could handle.

Jacqueline was another matter. Once again Captain Laurent had come to visit which ended with them walking towards church together holding hands. She came back ecstatic and immediately pulled me into an empty room and began rambling. It was almost impossible to comprehend her babble but it seemed as though this was a turning point in her relationship with him.

"I think I love him." she said as a smile crept onto her face.

I broke out into a grin and gave her a great hug. I was glad she had finally admitted her feelings towards him. I suspected that she had similar emotions many months ago but waited until she was ready to reveal them.

Somewhere deep inside me I was jealous of her happiness. My life was filled with melancholy. The people I care about were miserable and the fact that I couldn't do anything to help them was killing me. I am almost twenty years old and I still want to my father to hold me and say everything will be okay. The only other person who made me feel that safe is gone from my life yet only miles away.

I have heard whispers from people in the market that the king has snapped out of the trance he was under since his father died. I cannot help but smile at this thought. Perhaps it was I who directed his path. Immediately I scolded myself for thinking such thoughts. Anyone could have set his mind to the task and I must forever remind myself that I no longer hold a place in his heart.

The early hours of day were similar to any other day, however a certain uncomfortable weight was heavy on my heart. The grievances of my friends put an added strain to my work and a damper on my spirit. The darkness of the mass of clouds above was almost threatening yet rain did not fall.

Market congregation was still the same despite the bad weather. Hardly anyone bought from our stock and by the end of the day, the level of food remaining was much the same when we first started. Realising this, Paulette was miserable.

"What are we doing wrong?" she asked while packing the rest of the corn away.

"Nothing! Our crops are just as good as the next person's. People don't cope well to change. Each family has their own particular dealer. The fact that we have a few less doesn't necessarily mean that we are at fault."

"That I know. At least we have few faithful customers to keep our stock alive. Not nearly enough but alive nevertheless." Paulette said whilst folding the shade cloth and gathering up the poles.

"If… if only we did not lose the money Monsieur Le Peau brought in. Conniving snake whose every intention was shrewd and not to trusted. The bare sight of him causes my stomach to turn. But the money we could have used." I thought aloud as regret seeped through me. As desperate as my actions were last year, I should not have been so harsh. Perhaps if I hadn't shoved a sword in his face he would still be buying from us. However, Paulette thought otherwise.

"Do not speak so kindly of that man. I would not wish to sell our food to slime. After all the ill things he has done to us, you in particular, I thank god he has withdrawn himself from our lives otherwise it would take great strength to stop myself from getting rid of him once and for all." she spat with distaste.

I could not help but disagree. However, I remained silent, thankful that Paulette's everlasting depression had briefly ceased to welcome anger.

Just as we were packing the last stray items into baskets, a sharp cry froze my motor functions. Released from paralysis, I discarded my chores in search for the crying child.

A young girl huddled beneath a doorstep, shaking with wet cold for, at that moment it had begun to rain. I rushed towards her, took off my shawl to cover her tiny frame. She looked up at me with dark eyes.

"What is your name?" I asked politely.

"So-Sophie." she said through chattering teeth.

"That is a beautiful name. My name is Danielle. Sophie where are your parents?"

"I – I can't find them." she sobbed.

"Well Fair Sophie we are just going to have to find them." I said picking her up to rest on my hip, "Can you remember where you live?"

She nodded slowly, "Mevour Street."

"I know where that is. Don't worry we will be there soon. I'm sure your _mere _is very worried about you."

To keep Sophie calm I plagued her with many questions like her favourite animal, colour, food, game and book. After I could think of no more I began to hum. No idea what song I was humming to but it seemed to calm her all the same.

It was not long until we reached her street. She recognised it immediately and ran towards her house. When I caught up to her, she was inside arms wrapped tightly around the neck of a woman I assumed was her mother.

As soon as they let go of each other the mother turned her tear stained face towards me. "Thankyou immensely for taking care of my little Sophie." she said as she raced over to hug me. Realising I was still in the rain she welcomed me inside to dry near the fire until the constant pour of water ceased.

We talked a while until Sophie started yawning. Her mother quickly took her to bed. I was left to roam around the room, admiring the simple yet indeed precious items strewn about. The mother came back looking exhausted but still wore a grin that had not left since I arrived.

"I am quite amazed that Sophie warmed up to you so quickly. Usually it takes many meetings until she is brave enough to talk to a person. She must see something she likes in you."

"Sophie was very brave indeed. I, myself, am surprised how calm she was through the entire journey." I replied.

We sat in silence for a moment. I was gazing at the flickering flames of the fire but once I looked up I noticed the woman staring at me intently.

"Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Alice."

"Danielle." I replied.

"I apologise but there is something awfully familiar about you. I am certain we have never met but perhaps I have crossed paths with one of your parents. Who are they?" she asked.

"Both of my parents are dead. My father died when I was eight years old, Auguste De Barbarack." I paused to give her time to recollect the name.

"I have heard of Monsieur De Barbarack but never had the pleasure of meeting him."

"My mother, however, I have never laid eyes on for she died in childbirth. My father spoke of her highly, Nicole De Loncre."

At once, a single tear ran down her cheek and she reached out to clutch my hands. "Of course. I cannot believe I hadn't noticed before. You look so much like her. Your features are almost identical except for your eyes. You must have your father's eyes.

When I heard of her passing, some nineteen years ago, I had not realised she was with child. Nicole and my father were business acquaintances. I have known her family since birth. Drought forced my parents into bankruptcy. The De Loncre's kindly offered us shelter. Nicole and I were often mistaken as sisters. But when my father received an opportunity to earn a greater quantity of money for his family in a large town on the other side of the country. Our families lost touch but I have often wondered what happened to Nicole. Now I know." she sobbed.

"Thankyou" I whispered softly, "I had not known of her childhood before this. Understand that I hold you in the highest respect for telling me this."

It was only after several tears had fallen that I realised I was crying. I stood up and tried to shield my face from her eyes. A gentle hand rested on my shoulder. I glanced over to see her concerned expression. Somehow this produced more tears to flow. Deciding I had to get out of there before I completely broke down in front of a woman I hardly know.

Moving towards the exit I said, "The weather is worsening and I must get home before my friends begin to worry."

Stepping into the cold downpour, I heard her cry out, "I hope we shall meet again Danielle."

I nodded in her direction before hovering my hands over my head to prevent rain reaching my eyes as I sped down the road.

Once I had reached the path to the manor, I could see the distant figure of Paulette waiting by the door. She hurried me inside and quickly placed me beside the fireplace where there was a fresh change of clothes.

Once I was dry and the colour returned to my cheeks I explained the returning of Sophie to her mother but refused to mimic the conversation involving my mother. Instead I filled the void with a lie that Alice wanted me to wait to see if the rain would cease before sending me out but when heavy clouds broke loose all their glory, she suggested that I make my way back before all the heavens wept for me.

Paulette nodded her head in acknowledgement and sent me to bed fearing that any longer I strayed from bed, sickness would dawn on me.

I thanked Paulette for her kind thoughts of my wellbeing and went to my room. Safely under thick sheets, I allowed myself sleep but it had other plans. Alice's words were repeating in my head until the rain stopped pounding and through a mast of grey, weak sun reached my window and another day had begun.

Removing myself from the warm cacoon I got ready for another day of work.

Simple chores were smothered with fatigue. Paulette had steered myself away from anything that required concentration for she could clearly see that exhaustion aggravated the accuracy and speed of extensive tasks.

An hour had passed and I was growing ever so slightly worse. Every time I attempted to focus, my mind drifted back onto yesterday's conversation with Alice.

I found myself chopping wood with no idea how I came to be there. I put all my strength into the precision of the cut because I knew that if I let my thoughts wander, one wrong swing could remove a valuable limb from my body.

Moving on to my eleventh stump, I suddenly noticed a silhouette walking towards me. The sun in my eyes prevented me from seeing who it was until they were less than three feet away.

My eyes widened and I drew in a sharp breath of damp air but waited for him to speak and he did, ever so reliably.

"I need your help."

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	7. Cold Irony

Authors Note:  Okay I was hoping more for March but I'll take the beginning of April. Sorry about the short chapter. It's one of the more boring ones. Just to get something clear, at the end of the chapter, you might notice that Paulette is a bit cranky. I just figured that since she never met Henry and witnessed Danielle's broken heart, she would react that way.

However it links in some of the stuff seen in the movie. I also added in a line from the mini-series Pride and Prejudice. See if you can find it. Yay find-a-phrase! Okay, it's 1:30am and I'm tried! Get used to it!

In Year 10 now, so lots more of assessments. Three due tomorrow, in fact. Meh! I hope you'll like it. Need more reviews to keep up the motivation. Enjoy

P.S Birthday on 12th

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Cold Irony

After the conference I spent hours in the royal library, searching through, what seemed hundreds of books, for a law that could absolve the destruction of the ruins.

Nothing.

The plans were too efficient, too precise. Every possible fault was defeated in meticulous detail. There was no legal possibility that the plans could be stopped.

I cried out in frustration, which echoed in the empty room. Anger pulsating through my veins, I stood up quickly, knocking over the chair. This simple act only angered me more. In a rush of fury, I knocked all the books that were laid out on the table, scattering them around the room.

Bursting out of the room, hot faced and fuming, I made my way up to my bedchambers. A servant was in there but upon seeing my face, made no attempt at apologies and left swiftly out of the room.

I paced the large room, trying to gather my thoughts with no success. At one point I walked out onto the balcony connected to my room. Taking no notice of the beautiful scenery that I have often gazed at lovingly before. A cool breeze swept across my body making it shiver. I considered going inside to reach warmer clothing but at once the clouds broke loose and released a torrent of rain.

Normally I would have leapt inside to avoid getting wet but something stopped me. I stood there, soaked and immobile, waiting for my answer to come.

Two hours I was in the rain, feeling sickness grab its icy hands on me, still I did not move. Something I could not hope to explain was telling me that my answer would come. Until then, I fought to fed off ill.

Yet another hour passed and the constant rain would not cease. No strength left in me allowed the first symptoms in. Shaking uncontrollably I remembered back to a time when I chose to fight the rain.

I would give anything to have that day back. Oh, what I would change!

She would be here, she accuse me of being insane, wrap a warm blanket around me and give me consultation.

Yes, Danielle would know what to do.

Danielle would know what to do.

I was instantly hit with the realisation of the simpleness of the answer. Why had I not known to turn to her before? Was it not she who set me on my path as majesty?

Giving thanks to the heavens, I noticed that it had stopped raining and the dark clouds were beginning to clear. I smiled, despite myself, to the irony of it all.

Not bothering to change out of my rain sodden clothes, I made my way to my answer, leaving a trail of water behind me.

Outside the castle, I decided against riding a horse to her house, thinking that the long walk would be useful to think of what to say to her.

Do I start off by making pleasantries? How do I ask her for her help? Should I be direct or formal? What do I offer if she refuses? Bribery? Pleading?

A many number of scenarios circled my head, I hadn't even the time to choose when I realised I was standing outside the manor.

There was only one word that could properly explain my emotions… panic.

How was I to approach her, asking of such a task? Looking up at the entrance, it loomed with enormousy. I made a few hesitant steps before a darkness crashed upon me. What if it was no Danielle who answered the door? Surely the other servants will have heard of my reputation and refuse to let me in, even if I am a king.

Day was breaking, hopefully Danielle would be tending to the farm by now. Perhaps if I go around the back I could wait until she is alone before I reveal myself.

Softly treading on the ground, I crept around the side of the house and surely enough, two women were working vigorously on the crops. One seemed immensely troubled.

Backing away so they could not identify me, I walked around the other side of the manor. At a distance, I could see a figure near the woodshed. Assuming that was Danielle, I plucked up all the courage I could muster and headed towards her.

The sun, now fully risen above the horizon, was beating down on my back, however, my clothes were still quite wet and my hair, flopping lazily into my eyes, was dripping with water.

I took no notice because as I worked my way over a hill towards her, my hands became moist, my heart was beating at an abnormal rate and it became difficult to breathe.

She was aware of my presence but it was only until I was a foot away that she drew a sudden intake of oxygen and stared dumbly at me, waiting for me to speak.

I soon became aware that all planned conversation tactics were forever lost. It took me moments to remember why I was even there. After dealing with that minor difficultly, I decided on the most direct approach.

Taking a deep breath I finally spoke, "I need your help."

She looked down at her feet, no doubt wondering what to say. She glanced up at me a few times before looking back down.

Was she as lost for words as I was, moments ago? I wanted to give her time to reply as she had done me but a sudden cold rush of air arrived from the hill, in my next breathe, it entered my mouth, constricting my throat. A string of hoarse coughs escaped my lips and I soon found myself bending over in an attempt to regain breath into my lungs.

Warm hands rested on my shoulders and led me back to the house. I was seated in front of a fire, which soon sent tingles through my stiff legs.

I glanced over at Danielle as she removed a blanket from a closet. Her face was contorted in deep thought. She slowly made her way over to me and wrapped the heavy cloth around my chest.

Our eyes locked for a second. I could see her confusion, her worry and also, beneath the mask she wears so well, exhaustion of the psychological kind.

I am sure, through my eyes, she could see all the emotions I have hidden from the world but most importantly a deep feeling of irretrievable loss.

Still staring at me she sat quietly, waiting. I swallowed the great lump that had risen in my throat and began to speak. I told her of the plans for the prison. She seemed as shocked as I was of the news. A deep sense of gratitude filled me, to know that someone felt the same way about the ruins.

Danielle stood from her chair and paced the room slightly. I watched her movements, trying to guess what was going through her head at that moment.

"What do you want from me?" she asked with a blank expression.

"Help me… help your country. By taking on this cause, France will –"

"Do not act as if my help will serve directly to France. If you need my help then ask for it, do not bring your country into this, there is no place for it. You want this for yourself then take responsibility for it." Danielle said, her tone rising a level.

"Danielle", I said, attempting to raise myself out of the chair but collapsing feebly, "Please. I need your help."

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My head swirled with thoughts. Looking up at the figure in front of me, it only seemed to aggravate my loss of concentration.

"As king I have the power to refuse the proposal but without reason, it may provoke some leading statues of authority, to question my dedication to the throne for dismissing a morally worthy task." Henry explained.

"Yes, you wouldn't want to ruin your image." I snapped, irritated by his reason.

He appeared hurt by this comment and tried to defend his statement, "That is not what I meant –"

"Of course not. Forgive me." I apologised, eyes downcast. I placed my elbow on the table and rested my head in my palm, breathing slowly.

A shuffle of movement forced me to look up to see Henry moving towards me. He took a few uncertain steps before quickly changing his direction. I got up and walked towards him, stopping a few feet short upon hearing noise coming into the room.

Paulette and Louise had walked into the room, eyes wide at royalty.

Henry snapped his head to look at the gawking figures in the doorway. It was at this point that he had removed most of his wet clothing, including his shirt. Only the blanket hung from his shoulders, which he tugged at sharply to conceal part of his bare chest.

I shuffled towards Paulette and Louise, pushing them outside. As soon as we were around the corner of the house, Paulette dropped her basket of various goods and yelled, "What, in the name of Jesus, is he doing here?"

Using the calmest voice I could muster I answered, "Do not jump to conclusions. He is here on official business."

"Horse shit! What official business would bring him here?"

"That I do not know," I admitted, "He has not expressed in full detail what he wants of me."

Paulette's eyes twinkled with menace, "Oh, I can think of a few things."

My eyes widened with utter disbelief, "Paulette! He is married and not of that sort! You know I would rather die than succumb to that."

Louise, whom had remained silent, rested a loving hand on my arm and nodded in understanding. I turned to Paulette, whose stature had only been weakened slightly.

"The last man I trusted rests beside your father. Do not presume to think I will give him an ounce of what he does not deserve." she proclaimed.

"I would not think any less of you. Know I feel the same yet believe his intensions are genuine. I will not border on anything I feel is unjust and Henry will respect that. He is the King and I must give him what he requests." I explained.

Feeling that enough was said, I retreated to the house. A few metres separating myself from the door and Paulette called out mockingly, "Is that why he is lacking in clothes?"

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Upon walking back into the manor, I noticed two disturbing aspects that influenced upon each other. The first was that the door to the main room was ajar and the second that a certain person was missing.

Discarded on the floor were the remains of his clothes and the blanket. Yet on the table, a note sat.

Danielle 

_You have much been in longing of my absence_

_I know I had lost your trust long ago_

_Your actions are entirely understandable_

_Yet if you decide to accept my offer, meet me at Joan's Rock next morn_

_King Henry_

I pondered over this message for hours, not knowing what to do. His composed writing astonished me. After overhearing my conversation with Paulette, I had not predicted he would be so sympathetic of my situation. I thanked him quietly and placed the note in a carved box, hidden beneath the floorboards of my bed, along side my mother's glass slipper.

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	8. Gone

Authors Note:  Okay wow it has been forever. Every month I'd say, 'I'll post it this month but I never have. So unbelievably sorry. This chapter I'm disappointed with I wanted it to be so much longer but at least it's a chapter.

Finished my exams today. I've had nine exams in five days so I've been I tad stressed. Okay stressed is an understatement.

Number of times I have kicked bed post - 8

Number of teeth that have ground down to half its original size - 14

Number of times I have screamed at inanimate objects - 23

Having your parents look at their youngest daughter screaming at a chair and thinking we should have put ice on it that night - PRICELESS

There are some things you can't break with a sledgehammer, for everything else there's Mastercard.

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Gone

My palms were sweaty and the early morning mist chilled me that much more. My eyes shifted nervously amongst the trees. Leaning against the extremely large boulder, opted the name of Joan, I tried once more to calm my rapid breath.

This was the important stage in my life that presented with an opportunity, more like poignant intelligence that benefits the heart. The recurring question unable to find an answer throughout the last dozen months will be given a clue into its resolution.

"Does Danielle still love me?"

Her avoidance of me and anxious mannerism in our last meeting could only point to the most probable solution. Since the masque, it is only natural that Danielle despises the every essence of my being due to the harsh conduct in which she was treated, not to mention the broad public awareness of the issue. This type of ill treatment would encourage her against assisting me with my dilemma and as such she will not appear today and prevent any conference with me in the future.

However, if she turns up… that is an entirely different matter.

Feeling the need to change the subject, since endless questioning could quite possibly lead to mental deficiency, I flicked through the legal documents and some books I brought from the King's Library. They would be quite useful to her… if she does show up.

Oh, here I go again!

I hastily grabbed the water pouch at my side and splashed the contents in my face. The ridiculous scheme did nothing to distract me from my thoughts and could very well possibly worsen the dreaded illness that came upon me, despite Danielle's attempts at recovery, during agitated sleep.

Wracking coughs sent me sprawling across the rock but it was nothing compared to the pain I already felt.

"If she does not show in the next half hour, I will leave." I declared, whilst talking to Joan. After a moment I regretted doing so. Talking to inanimate objects could only lead to psychological dysfunction, I realised, softly pounding my head against the jagged stone.

I paused this repeated movement long enough to hear a gentle voice behind me, condensed with confusion.

Swinging around to meet Danielle's face, I smiled despite myself to what this could mean.

Her eyes flickered towards mine and I could see she was blinded by inner misery, enough of which my heart swelled with sympathy.

"What am I doing here?" she asked softly. Every word in her question was pleading for me to answer.

Having no response to that question I tried to change the subject, "I'm glad that you came."

She nodded diligently, looking at the ground. No more than a minute passed before she looked up again, face determined and eyes resolute. Her moment of weakness had gone.

"Did you ask to meet you here for a specific purpose or shall we make idle conversation to pass the time?"

Smiling I moved to the satchel behind me. My hands fumbled with the papers inside and I noticed, from the corner of my eye, Danielle moving slowly, ever so cautiously, towards me pulled by the familiar force of curiosity. Not daring to look up, I waited until she was but three feet from where I stood.

Retrieving all the necessary papers from the leather bag, I laid them onto my lap. Along with mine, her eyes scanned across the ink blotched parchment, taking it all in. After shuffling quickly through all the documents, I felt I might need to offer some enlightenment. "I have spent two long days, pouring over theses documents, plans, books, previous construction experience, anything that might be of relevance. All 48 hours of study I have collected here. I need a fresh set of eyes, a stable head, preferably one that hasn't been sleep deprived."

A soft chuckle emitted from her lips and Danielle visibly relaxed. She moved closer towards me held by confident stride. For one optimistic second, my breath caught in my throat as her face leaned close to mine. Before our lips collided she delicately angled her head to look at the paper in front of me.

Mentally, I kicked myself, for being so foolish, for believing I had another chance and for her taking advantage of me. Immediately I reverted back to my potent royal demeanour and seethed at her, now, unperturbed figure. Inside I knew I was over-reacting yet all my noble training had taught me to dominate over anyone, especially those within the female stature.

"And you have not come across any flaw within the plans?" she asked, head bowed in analysis. From my position I could not see her face yet I imagined her eyes to be full of mockery even though her voice left no trace.

"Are you cynical of the amount of hours I have studied? Or perhaps my dedication to the task? If I am required to prove myself to you than maybe I should question your own loyalty? Perhaps I underestimated your value and will do best in finding assistance elsewhere." I lashed.

However, during this little speech, Danielle, with arms full of documents, walked calmly towards me, face blank yet a suspicious glint evident in her eyes. So close now that I could feel her breath on my cheek she said, "Then leave" and shoved the papers into my chest. Turning away, the force pinning the parchment to me left with her, sending the papers floating in various directions towards earth.

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After leaving, a dark cloud rained over my head. How could I have trusted him? I was angry with myself for believing he needed me. I feel like such a prize idiot.

When arriving home, I brushed off Paulette before she could tell me, 'I told you so'. However, my haste to get upstairs did not allow me to drown her disdainful murmurings. Stopping in my tracks, I gripped the banister, white knuckles protruding through my skin. Swinging my head over to face her down below I screamed in frustration, "For once in your life, Paulette, leave me alone."

My feet pounded up the last few stairs and into my room. I slammed the door behind me and rested my head upon the wood. A single tear ran down my cheek yet I wiped it off unsympathetically. I was in no mood for crying.

Heat rose up in my neck as I replayed the words he said to me. Pushing myself away from the door, I paced my room heatedly. Clenching my hands into fists, I punished myself for going there today, what more for letting myself take his abuse.

How Dare He!

Were there a book of pitiful acts history has displayed, I would surely be in it, proudly relaying my stupidity. How the handsome prince tricked, yet again, the young maiden into trusting him.

Such is the saying, 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.'

In shier frustration, I lurched myself at my nightstand and ripped the thin fabric off, watching the objects previously on top scatter to the floor, emitting dull thuds. This, however, did not satisfy my hunger for destruction and I went off to find something else to break.

After tipping over my bookcase, tearing the sheets off my bed, smashing a vase into the wall and kicking the wardrobe, I fell upon the ruins.

Hands shaking with the remnants of rage I closed my eyes and let the awful memories seep in. I remembered his face as he spoke, his posture as he waved about his hands in demand, his eyes as he looked at me in disgust and his silence as I left.

My chest heaved a sob and I trembled in despair. Does he know what he does to me? My heart is withering away with every word and I will lay here, broken, until it happens again.

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One word could sum up my thoughts.

Merde!

After riding my horse around near empty paddocks, with such force and callous manner, the mare soon grew irritated and tired, throwing me off it's back. Pain coursing through my back gave me another reason not to move. I replayed my meeting with Danielle, her thoughtless manner and indifferent tone angered me to no end.

Grinding my teeth I regretted even thinking of asking to acquire the task. Such official tribulations should be left to those of higher ranking. Going to all that trouble to persuade her come, time wasted. And for what, have her criticise the work I have accomplished and play tricks on my mind for her own amusement.

I despise the woman! Only one as stubborn as she would speak that way to royalty. Yet I cannot understand what I loathe the most, the simple fact that a servant, a woman at that, would act so accusingly and apathetically towards members of authority or that I loved her for doing so.

My father was correct. Affiliating with the lower class was even beneath me. Not only to stain my reputation as King but degrade the status system that our country is built on. Danielle De Barbarack's sole existence has forced uncertainty within the faith of the French people on my family's rule. My involvement with her will inevitably lead to my downfall.

"Why do you torment me so?" I yelled up at the looming sky.

I stared at that sky many a while, waiting for it's response. I watched clouds roll clumsily past, pushing past one another to reach first the horizon. Sooner than expected stars appeared, sprinkled along the darkness. The light grew dimmer yet I did not move. Hours passed till my blood settled and the shock set in.

The sliver of trust gained in me was long gone. Reviewing our conversation it dawned on me that her behaviour, that I proclaimed to be treacherous, were innocent acts of kindness and curiosity.

I dropped my head in my hands in despair. She was the only person I found capable of the task. My chance of receiving assistance was diminished, faded like the long since setting sun. Only remains are darkness and lost hope.

Sitting up abruptly, pain shot through my spine but I was far from caring. The sun will rise. It may take a while yet no hope is forever lost. I just needed a method to regain her faith in me. Simple as that…

I was doomed!

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	9. The Sickly Sight of Blood

Authors Note:  I think you guys are pretty used to my routine by now. I say I will update and hardly ever do. But hey, you still love me right?

I'm still pretty much in awe of LunarLitLover. You have been unrelenting in your abuse of how little I update and I love you for it. Seriously guy, I hold no qualms, criticise me as much as you want on my shitty updating skills.

I had originally wanted to post this chapter at the beginning of 2007, just after I came back from Europe. (btw really cool fact! A friend of a friend of mine actually stars in Ever After!!! She's French but because of her Spanish heritage she played one of the gypsies. Actually her whole family was in the movie but I've never met them. Next time you watch the movie, just when Danielle and Henry kiss for the first time after they play scissors, paper, rock, the kids playing in the background, that's her and her brother! Cool huh. happy dance. I have connections!)

2008 is HSC year for me. Bask in the glory of this chapter because you probably won't see one for another while. I suggest adding me to your alerts list so an email will come to you when I finally update Chapter 10.

Have an enjoyable 2008. I hope you all had a good Christmas and New Year. See you soon.

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The Sickly Sight of Blood

I woke early amongst the disarray. A foggy mind slowly cleared and filled me with dread. Paulette would have my head if I went downstairs. I would put off our confrontation as long as possible. Slowly I stood and commenced the dire task of concealing the mess.

Close to noon and the room had regained its composure. A soft knock came from the door and I gathered my strength in preparation for Paulette's lecture. A sigh escaped my lips, as it was not Paulette who entered but my one and only confidant, Jacqueline. Her appearance radiant yet slightly dishevelled and a few passing minutes I would to understand why. Beaming she relayed her night's happy events, completely unaware of my own. Not sleeping a wink she strolled late into night accompanied by none other than Captain Laurent.

"When I first met him, I was slightly wary but my closer knowledge of him has greatly improved my impression. Despite his outward appearance he is quite charming and… thoughtful and… witty… and… sweet." she spoke softly with a dazed look in her eyes. A girlish smile spread over her face as she recollected a past event.

Putting my arm around her shoulder I said, "I have not much experience in this matter but it would seem to me that you are in love with the Captain."

Eyes wide and jaw loose she stumbled in her words to deny it, but her fumbling attempts to dissuade me only made her affections more obvious. I fell back onto the bed, grinning from ear to ear. "Moonlit strolls, frequent visits, a _constant_ dazed expression!" I said, emphasising the last words, "My mind is set. You cannot hope to change my speculation."

A soft thud, Jacqueline fell beside me. I tilted my neck to look at her. "When do you see him next?"

Immediately a girlish smile lit up her face. Her hands were positioned delicately in front of her mouth, as if to hide behind them. "Two hours" she giggled excitedly.

An honest laugh escaped my lips. The sight of the sickeningly happy Jacqueline brought tears to my eyes. How silly young love is! In that moment I was forced think of Henry. Was I this delirious at the beginning?

The smile slowly faded from my face as I choked on memories. "Your presence is often missed. Where do you go these past days?"

Her sudden comment could be debated on premeditated intent. My breath caught in my throat as I struggled to find a suitable answer. "Er… " I let out a number of vowel sounds, covering them with a nervous chuckle, "I… two hours! How about I braid your hair for the occasion?"

Thankfully Jacqueline's attention was easily diverted. Leading her into the next room, she sat ardently before the mirror and awaited beautification. Letting up a silent prayer of gratitude I began my work.

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Only a few hours had passed. The Captain accompanied Jacqueline for another one of their outings. I had attempted to complete the chores whilst in the avoidance of Paulette and Louise. This was proven to be more than difficult. Both would approach me yet there were only so many excuses to evade their scornful gaze. Paulette, in particular, was catching on to the routine. Yet again she cornered me, halfway through yelling that the beans were burning, Paulette took a firm grip of my arm and led me outside.

"What is going on Danielle?" she questioned sternly. Her hand was removed from my arm yet she artfully blocked my escape back indoors. Finally I knew I could not avoid it any longer.

"Lapse in concentration. Do not worry Paulette." I tried putting my grief into the gentlest words possible. No good came of it.

"Do not give me that bull Danielle! Did you not think I knew? Your pining has gone long enough. He is a married man… and I curse myself for having to speak these words. He is not within your reach. Your persistence is far too troublesome not to acknowledge and must meet its demise." Her words affected me greatly. A scar not to fade within my heart. Tears brimmed my eyes and threatened to fall, one more word would destroy any strength left.

Paulette saw the pain and understood what she needed to do. The task would be severely regretted but must be fulfilled to stop Danielle from continuing her pursuit of nothing. Previous words were not enough. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, "Your parents would be ashamed of you."

Tears tumbled down my cheeks. The invisible wall that took one year to build, crumbled, as the ill-fated words became reality.

Taking short, sharp breaths, I leant my hand against the wall to regain balance as my knees lost strength and caved. All was silent except for my tearful gasps. How I wished this ache would stop.

Amidst my despair I felt Paulette brush past me. The ruffle of her worn clothes did nothing to warm my heart. I yearned for her kind familiarity and some comfort yet received neither.

"Danielle… Danielle… Danielle!" the faint voice steadily increased in volume as the young girl ran across the field.

My mind did not acknowledge her presence. _Your parents would be ashamed of you. _These words rolled painfully in my head. The tears had stopped flowing yet the dull ache in my chest had not lessened.

All of a sudden a warm hand rested on my shoulder. At last, some comfort. This was irrefutably shattered as the fingers tightened and my shoulders and shook me with desperate force.

Looking up, I was surprised to see Crystal, the little gypsy girl I had come to know. Wiping the tears from my face, "What is it Crystal? What is so troublesome?"

The young girl's face crumpled and her entire body shook with each wracking sob. A shameful relief filled me as her litre of tears stilled my own. With all the tenderness I could muster, I put an arm around her bony frame and rocked her back and forth. There I held her until she spoke. Strength regaining, she leapt out of arms and tugged my hand to follow.

"Talia is in labour yet only birthing blood. Our midwife is ill and deemed to dangerous to approach. You must help! Please, we can think of no other person." She screamed to me in urgency.

Abruptly I shook off her tight grasp of my fingers. Her eyes widened in panic yet I believe she calmed somewhat as I sprinted towards the forest.

Though I knew the gypsy's camp location, certain accuracy was donated, led directly by the piercing screams. There laid Talia, matted in sticky red, cornered by a mass of grief stricken females.

I was given no time for composure, the moment I arrived on site, all eyes pleaded to me for help, unaware I had little knowledge of how to deal with the situation. Crouched before the open womb, my mind flickered back to old texts concerning the matter. Immediately I barked orders to the surrounding women, the few hurried off to deliver the errands while the others remained the positions of supporting the hurting mother, mumbling Spanish prayer.

Miguella and Alita rushed forth with strips of linen and a bail of water. "Stem the bleeding." My mind was whirling, all I could think is that she must not lose blood, not for her and not for the baby. Splashing the water to clear the cervix I came to realise half the problem was that her water had yet to break. Tearing the sack with my fingernail I encountered the next stage causing Talia's agony.

The baby was suffocating.

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Cloud.

Cloud.

Look, another cloud.

Found to be in the same position since dawn, gazing intently upon the sky, some might argue I behold a strange fascination with rain, for once again I was caught in it. Usually that is the case. My mind recollected the numerous occasions I deliberately stood amongst the falling water. Yet amazingly today I had an excuse.

I could not move.

Devoid of all philosophical or humorous content, the fall off Donatien had jarred my spine and was now incapable of movement. As the numerous clouds passed and the rain grew heavier, I closed my drowsy eyes.

I did not know how long I slept or even if the sun, blemished with grey cover, had disappeared beyond the horizon. Curiosity persisted but I did not open my eyes. Hovering next to my throat prevailed the cold feel of metal. Lightly tracing the line of my artery with the tip of the blade, I resisted the urge to draw sharp breath. Unmoving, I waited for death.

The blade removed itself and was replaced with the husky drawl of my name without title. Very few were permitted to drop 'King' in my address and I allowed my mouth to form the arch of a smile. Left eye opening, I looked up at the three men.

"Gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Henry, you should know by now that our sole purpose on this earth is to crave your company. Yet you make the pursuit unbelievably easy. I recommend you make the hunt more interesting… and hide." The three chucked enthusiastically at their witty comment. At the sight of the scrubby males, I could not help but join along with their delight.

Behind their unwashed, bearded face hid three kind gypsies, all of whom I had come to confide and ally. Estavan and Felipe were the youngest of the bunch, brimming with energy and juvenile self-confidence. My junior by eight years, their cocky nature and naïve view upon the world inspired my childlike qualities yet in need of constant surveillance. Standing closest to me was the man for the job. Pablo kept the peace between the two rowdy youngsters. To which, I believe, everybody was truly thankful.

Stepping forward Felipe held a hand to his heart, "Why Henry, I would think you callous. For even in the presence of the three most handsome men in France, you do not challenge us eye to eye."

"True," Estavan agreed, nearing, "I had hoped to expect more rivalry from the King of all France, and greet his opponents formally. For height may be the only virtue in your favour."

Grin widening I played along, "Ah gentlemen, you think too highly of yourselves. With all this business of protecting the country, and your hides in turn, I find myself in great excess of handsome charm and intelligence. But do not fear, my companions, if you follow my example you may be granted with… one sixth of my virtue."

The three men doubled over with explosive laughs. My imitation of their cheerful nature sent a severe pain through the muscles surrounding my spinal column. My sudden change in expression halted their laughter. Sending a small reassuring smile I explained, "Height, you list as one of my advantageous features, however I cannot possess it quite as effectively at present. I unfortunately took a fall off Atien last night and have rendered the use of my back quite useless."

"That ghastly horse," Pablo spoke, "will do you no good Henry. I do not understand why you insist on riding that ruthless thing. You have the supreme leisure of choosing any stallion from the Royal stables. Why do you like this one?"

"He reminds me of someone." I said simply, not wishing to go further. Thankfully, Pablo prying questions were held off by the announcement of Felipe.

"Ahh it all makes sense. We did find a horse wandering freely not three miles from here. I did comment it greatly resembled your Donatien but of course nobody listened to me." he said indignantly.

"But Felipe, you also compared Bonifacio and Reyes not last Monday."

"They do look very much alike!" he yelled in protest.

"No facial hair does not make Bonifacio look like Reyes - your wife."

My laughter brought tears to my eyes as I watched Felipe swat Estavan roughly and soon became a heated chase around the field. Pablo squatted down next to me, his eyes crinkled with laughter. "I have been watching over those boys for fifteen years. Alas none of my mentoring has affected them in the least. I dare say it will take another fifteen years before they understand proper etiquette."

"Do not fret, amigo. It may not take fifteen years for them to behave. I say fourteen."

"I'm just not cut out for this labour!" he announced, following the hyperactive boys with his eyes.

"Let us exchange jobs then shall we. See if you find your pleasure managing a country."

I watched his expression change to something thoughtful. Cocking his head to one side, he rubbed his chin. "Yes… yes! Let us do just that. You may handle these two and the gypsy camp while I take your role and wait for someone to wipe my ass before delicately placing it on that pretty throne you have there."

I laughed wholeheartedly. A large weight had been taken off my shoulders and I felt my sour mood wash away. However this was soon replaced with five simultaneous sharp pains down my back. I could no longer hide the discomfort and let out a short cry in agony. Pablo looked at me in fatherly concern and shouted for Felipe and Estavan to "move their scrawny butts" and help me back to the camp.

What would have usually been a fairly short trip was somewhat lengthened by the continuous groans of the three men. "This torture is what horses were made for. God did not want us Spaniards to suffer thus created the beautiful four-legged creatures. Just because you are the King of a tiny piece of land doesn't give you the right to demote us to the level of Donatien." Felipe cried while shouldering the weight of my upper torso.

Despite this, they managed to carry me back through the forest without any serious injuries. Nearing the familiar clump of trees, my safe journey was dramatically altered as I was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. My cry of pain was muffled by the sound of a woman's piercing screams. Pablo quickly hurried to the other elders to find out what was happening.

From the corner of my eye I witnessed several women rushing back and forth to collect water and cloths. My breathing slowed as more screams were heard. After my father died, I had not hoped any person should have to suffer such physical pain.

Pablo rushed back to my side with warm cloths for my back and information on the unhappy events. "Talia is in labour. Her first child. There are serious problems with the birth. The midwife is unwell and cannot assist. The other wives are trying their best to save the child but it is not looking good."

My body went cold. My one hope for being King was to protect all citizens of France. To hear Talia in such agony made me feel as if I failed. I watched, with the greatest sorrow, as Miguella ran past where I lay with a bundle of blood-drenched cloths in her arms.

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My hands left her womb once more, matted with sticky red. The sight of the scene made my stomach flop but I struggled, for all our sakes, to keep my composure. They needed me now.

The umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby's neck. As Talia's contractions gained speed, any pushing would kill the child. My hands trembled with uncertainty. Drops of blood dripped onto the ground.

I needed to free the baby of the cord. With only the tiniest knowledge of what I was doing, I pushed my hand back into the uterus, feeling for the baby's head. I closed my eyes and allowed my fingers to find the cord. Unravelling it from the baby's neck I withdrew. A newfound wave of blood seeped out creating a glistening pool on the floor.

"Danielle?" Crystal cried out to me, her face poking out from behind her mother's legs. "Danielle please do not let her die."

"Crystal, do not look anymore. Stay with the men on the other side of the camp. Alita pass some cloth, the bleeding must stop."

The white material was placed in my hands, already being stained as my fingers grasped around the stiff fabric. Applying pressure to the cervix I waited for the blood to slow. Glancing up at the pale mother, my worry intensified. "Talia no! Stay with us. Please do not fall asleep." The blood loss was too much for Talia to bear and within second she lost consciousness.

Realisation dawned on me. She could no longer push. Tears welled my eyes as I felt this task would not see a happy ending. The two books that I have read that detail this procedure, I did not feel at the time of reading them that it would be so difficult. Talia and her child would die if he or she were not soon delivered. Taking one last breath, I took action again.

I had to retrieve the baby from the womb. If Talia could no longer take this charge, it would be my responsibility. The baby would have to be born feet first. If I grabbed an arm, possible damage could be done to the chest and head. However my mind went blank over how to distinguish between the hands and feet. Both hand five phalanges yet there was a fifty percent chance that by grabbing the wrong one, I could kill the baby.

My dilemma lay plainly before me. I could only go by chance. I took hold of one limb and paused. _Mother. Father. Please watch over me. _

I pulled.

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The earth stilled. Every person surrounding me fell silent. Slowly, their eyes sparkled and a smile graced their lips upon hearing the noise. A baby cried.

It was the most beautiful sound one could ever hear. The men rejoiced and Enrique, Talia's husband, cried. Minutes passed and Alita approached with the newborn, passing her swiftly to her father's hands. His tears splashed the poor girl's cheeks as they cried together. "Where is Talia?" he asked Alita, rocking his daughter in his arms.

Alita's happy expression soon changed. "Enrique, she has lost a lot of blood. We can only pray."

The crowd hushed once more. It doesn't seem fair that immediately following good news, bed news will resurface. The baby girl was passed around the men's hands, her smile brightening their faces. Enrique kept his solemn gaze. Little could alter his concern.

Pablo reached for the child, rocking her back and forth in his arms. No doubt, in his age, he has done this many times. The girl quickly fell asleep. "No matter what situation, a newborn child will cheer up the hearts of many. How could anybody look at this innocent little creature and not feel the least bit happy?"

I smiled as I felt that my back was once again able to bend and stretch. Slowly coming to a standing position I moved over to Pablo and the little one. His statement was inadequately put. Truthfully I could not see how one child's birth could restore the danger and dread felt by the camp at Talia's condition. But not wanting to shake Pablo's peace, I remained silent.

"Princess, I pray that you may only see the best the world has to offer. Till then I shall look over you." He murmured softly to the child. Tears brimmed the old man's eyes and noticing that I had noticed them, he took a sudden breath and passed the sleeping baby over to me, quickly retreated to the crowd, mumbling something about dust.

Before I could object the baby stirred. Looking down at her pink cheeks and light brown eyes, I thought she almost looked beautiful… before she cried. Fumbling and arms outstretched, I held the baby away from my chest and tried to hush her screams.

My attempts were useless. As the moments passed her screams increased in volume. Heads turned towards us and I could distinctly see the old man doubling with laughter. Panicking I tried bobbing the girl in the air making cow noises. Obviously this didn't work and I stood there like a miserable jester. All of a sudden a pair of arms removed the baby from me and held her close to her chest, swaying gently and humming. Remarkably the little girl grew quiet and resumed her slumber.

"Predictable that the man who is supposed to care for an entire country of people cannot handle one newborn."

She looked even more beautiful than ever. Holding the baby close, closed eyes and humming softly, I could not help but stare in awe at what an amazing woman she was.

"Danielle, please forgive my irrational behaviour before. I was overwhelmed with the weight of the task and…"

She turned sharply to face me, "Oh no. It is you who must forgive me. For how could I ever presume to live up to more than 'my own value'. I am deeply sorry for wasting your time."

Danielle moved over to Enrique, gently placing the now sleeping baby into her father's arms. Only when the bundle of clothe, that shrouds the child and drapes limply in front of any person who cradles her, was removed from Danielle, the surrounding crowd could glimpse the smears of blood that covered her dress. I so wished to burn the mess of a gown that blatantly spoke of death and misery, so that Danielle should never be tainted. But there it glistened, the blood fresh and the deepest red, a constant reminder of the dire state of Talia's condition.

Pablo moved slowly closer, a fraying dress gathered in his arms. "Take these Danielle. You have done too much for us today. I will have Estavan take you home." He said, kissing her cheek. Estavan moved forward, uncommonly solemn and placed one hand on the lower of her back, preparing to lead her back to the manor.

"No!" I cried. God has given me this chance to speak with her once more; I must not let it slip.

Pablo walked quickly over and placed a warning hand over my shoulder. "Henry! She has had enough for today. Her face is pale, let her sleep and try another day."

"I'm sorry Sir but I cannot. I know I will not get another opportunity, she would not allow it." I shook his hand off and strode over to her, till we were but two feet distance. Her brown eyes stared solidly into mine, guarded and determined.

"Danielle," I began. A gruff cough sounded directly beside me. The old man's face was stern. "Mademoiselle DeBarbarak, I sincerely apologise for my callous behaviour yesterday. It was beneath me to think your intentions were not… truthful."

Grinding her teeth, she shook her head in anger and pushed past me. "I do not want your apology! I don't need it."

I grabbed her hand in desperation. The halt in momentum forced her to swing back and face me. Her eyes were burning in fury, expression twisted to imply utter disgust at what she saw. Me.

"I need your help. They will tear down the ruins at Longbourne in less than two months if we cannot stop it. Please Danielle!" I pleaded.

Unrelenting she wrenched back her arm from my grasp and returned to her previous state of storming off into the woods. She had thrown down the clean dress and without a glace back, she walked off through the crowd and to the direction of her home. Hopelessness nestled in my chest once more.

Unexpectedly, another arm stopped her flee. "You must not go."

She looked up and the wrinkled face and her mouth dropped in astonishment. Pablo placed a hand on her head in what was thought to be a calming gesture. Danielle remained silent, brows knotted in confusion but nevertheless she waited for his explanation.

"There were rumours that the ruins were to be destroyed." His voice was so low. He looked as I had a moment ago. Desperate. "You must not let that happen."

I wrenched my eyes away from the pair to the other gypsies who had slowly crept forward. Pablo removed his hands from Danielle and sat down on a nearby tree stump.

"Let me tell you a story."

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